


A Lucky Meeting

by Amsare



Category: BioShock
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Lube, M/M, One Night Stands, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7426198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amsare/pseuds/Amsare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Atlas watched his friends opening the pub door leaving him all alone sitting in front of the counter; there was a strange calm as the group of men were finally going home now, after a long day at work. Atlas, on the contrary, wanted to stay just a little more – he was not tired, not really – as he had laid his eyes on a bloke and he could not let him leave.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lucky Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> As we're gonna get _Bioshock: The Collection_ , I wanted to write some Jatlas smut to celebrate the event. I love these two.

“See you tomorrow, Atlas!”  
   
“See ye, lads!”  
   
Atlas watched his friends opening the pub door leaving him all alone sitting in front of the counter; there was a strange calm as the group of men were finally going home now, after a long day at work. Atlas, on the contrary, wanted to stay just a little more – he was not tired, not really – as he had laid his eyes on a bloke and he could not let him leave.  
   
He sipped his beer while studying the young man appearance: surely that was the first time he had ever seen him in the pub or he would have noticed him. He was tall with broad shoulders and he had short, straight, dark hair. It was a pity that he could not see very well the boy's eyes colour from where he was sitting. Atlas laughed to himself, wondering if that bloke was some sort of athlete who had got lost in London late at night. Or maybe he was just some kind of worker, drinking a beer and smoking a cig alone with his thoughts.  
   
_You never know who you could meet in London after all._  
   
Whoever he was, Atlas would have discovered it soon anyway.  
   
“Another one before leaving, Atlas?” Joe, the old barman, suddenly asked him from the counter. There were not so many people by then, so there was a pleasant calm and Joe did not need to shout to make himself clear. The last clients were caught up in their discussions but nobody seemed to be drunk enough to start bothering each other: with a bit of luck, there would have been no fight that night.  
   
“Two, one for me and one for my lonely friend sitting over there,” Atlas answered, tilting his head toward the young man sitting at one of the tables.  
   
“Alright!” Joe took two bottles and opened them, “all yours, pal.”  
   
“Thanks, Joe.”  
Atlas left a couple of quid on the counter, taking the bottles and making them tingle together; he got up and walked toward the man who was now watching him curiously. Probably it was the first time someone was deliberately offering him something to keep him company.  
   
“Do you mind if I join you?” Atlas asked, putting the beers on the table right in front of him.  
The young man looked at the bottles and then answered, “please, sit down,” with a voice which was not as deep as Atlas had expected it to be, “is that for me?”  
   
“Serve yourself,” Atlas sat down on the empty chair, “I'm Atlas, by the way.”  
   
“I'm Jack,” the man said with smile and offering a handshake; Atlas was pleasantly surprised to find out that this Jack had a strong grip.  
   
_So we aren’t easy to break, are we?_  
   
“Nice to meet you, Jack, what brings you here? I’m sure I’ve never met you before,” Atlas brought the bottle to his mouth, sipping his beer, “And I would have noticed you, I don’t miss anything.”  
   
A little smile curved Jack’s mouth, lighting up his face even more; his features were delicate and his eyes were of a bright shade of green.  
   
_Bingo._  
   
“Really?” Jack took his bottle in a hand, taking a sip too, “well, I’m just passing through on my way to visit some cousins here in England. I’m from Overlook, Kansas.”  
   
“So you're American. Interesting,” Atlas said causally, feeling the thrill of anticipation growing inside himself.  
   
“And you? Why are you here in London?” That was a logic question to make – Atlas' Irish accent was recognisable everywhere.  
   
“I've been working for a local factory for three years by now, left home for a better future here,” Atlas told him the truth: he was living in London all alone while his family was still in his home country.  
   
“Sounds legit.”  
   
They remained in silence, looking at one another. Jack drank two, three times, tilting his head back and showing part of his neck: it was a pity his turtleneck covered him so much. Atlas felt the urge to bite him and kiss him hard.  
   
The last clients were taking their leaves, talking animatedly to Joe; then, they were outside the pub into the cold streets of London. The weather outside was not one of the best and it could have started to rain at any moment.  
   
_Who cares_ , Atlas thought and spoke again. “So, what do you do Jack?”  
Joe would have not complained if Atlas wanted to stay there a little longer – maybe – but he was a friend, a faithful one.  
For this reason, they kept on talking for about an hour as Jack started to open up little by little to Atlas: he told him about the farm where he grew up, how he got on well with his folks, about the period he spent in the army and about his studies. And that was just the beginning! In fact, Atlas was surprised to hear that Jack was very passionate about photography: he showed him his professional camera kept in a special briefcase he always brought with him and some astonishing pictures of landscapes too.  
“You took this, seriously?” Atlas pointed at one particular picture of an old lighthouse. There was a sort of mystery all around it, standing there in the middle of the sea with no boats nor ships. It was breathtaking – and he was talking about a simple picture – this bloke had talent.  
“Yes,” Jack answered quite proud of it, “It's near New York, a little port I visited during one of my first trip with my dad. He likes photography too, you know? I inherited this passion from him. We used to spend a lot of time outside, taking care of our farm…” He stopped talking so that he could take a sip of beer meanwhile Atlas lit on a cigarette.  
   
“Well, let me tell ye,” Atlas said, blowing off the smoke, “it's impressive.”  
Jack seemed very happy to hear that, cheeks now red not only for the warm air in the pub. “Thank you.”  
   
They kept on talking and the more they talked, the more Jack was becoming more than a common pretty bloke Atlas had simply thought to sleep with; he was a clever one, he had his hobbies and personality. He still wanted to spend the night with that gorgeous man anyway.  
   
“We're closing lads!” Joe warned them as he was wiping off some glasses. He had already switched off the majority of the lights and there were no waiters to be seen.  
   
“Sorry, Joe, we’ve lost track of time,” Atlas replied, thanking him silently with his eyes. One day he would have repaid the man, for real. He stood up along with Jack, moving away from the table.  
   
Joe sighed but he was not upset: he was a good man, maybe even too good. “Don’t worry, just for this once. Next time…”  
   
They finally left him to close the pub, feeling the cold air on their faces as soon as they were outside. There was a loud thunder, wind blowing harder.  
   
“Do you want to come over my place?” Atlas eventually asked to Jack who seemed to be not very surprised by that question, “we’ll freeze here.”  
   
Jack laughed, “Yes, good idea. Do you need a ride? There's my car parked outside,” he said then, pointing at one of the few cars parked not far from the pub. A rented one, clearly.   
   
“No, we can walk. I live on the other side of the road. That’s why I know Joe so well, I’m always here,” Atlas winked at him.  
   
Jack nodded, holding the important briefcase with him, “alright then, lead the way.”  
   
They walked side by side in silence, crossing the street and getting to an old flat just around the corner.  
“Here we are,” Atlas said soon after, opening the door. The stairs were narrow and cramped, the air grim and not so welcoming, but fortunately, Atlas lived on the second floor not on the stairs.  
“Follow me,” he whispered as they climbed the stairs. The last thing he wanted was waking his annoying neighbours.  
His flat was not big as there was just a bed and a bathroom, but that was all a man like him needed. He lived there alone, working and going out from time to time. That was no space for something called _family_ in his life – he was his own family.  
“It’s not so much, I know, but it's home,” he commented as he closed the door behind him as soon as Jack entered and put down the briefcase, “be my guest!”  
   
Jack smiled, looking around himself, curious, “I like it.”  
   
Atlas was not sure if he was saying the truth but he did not care about it: Jack would not have wanted to come home with him if he did not want to.  
   
“I’m sorry I don’t have a sofa,” Atlas chuckled, “I hope you don’t mind!”  
   
Jack sat on the bed, “I don’t mind,” and he lined back with a groan of pleasure completely at ease.  
   
Atlas’ eyes were on him, studying every single detail – he had to get closer, he had to touch him. “Can I join you, lad?”  
   
“It’s your bed, you don’t need to ask for my permission!” Jack laughed, looking at him from his lining position – and if that was not a clear invite...  
   
Atlas wasted no more time, getting over the bed and kissing that boy hard on his mouth and Jack welcomed him eagerly, deepening the kiss. He tasted of beer and smoke mixed together which was inebriating in a perverse way.  
   
Oh, this is so good.  
   
He had to get him out of those clothes and soon, he wanted to see him, to caress him inch by inch.  
   
“Take it off,” he said, helping Jack to slip off his white turtleneck, “that’s it.”  
   
He managed to unbutton his shirt while Jack was taking off his own belt with a fluid movement: he seemed to be eager to get down on business as soon as possible.  
   
“You don't know how much I want you,” Atlas murmured giving voice to his thoughts; Jack smirked, a sort of cockiness appearing on his face, “take me then.”  
The more he was spending time with him, the more Atlas liked him: he could not believe to his luck. “Soon, Jack, very soon.”  
   
It was not easy getting out of his jeans as they were so tight – he was so hard and they had not even started yet! Atlas threw his jeans away and then leaned on Jack to kiss him on his neck this time. He licked and bit hard: his salty skin made him remember those pictures of the lighthouse in the sea...  
   
“Wait,” Jack interrupted him so that he could slipped off his trousers too, obvious hardness tenting his pants.  
   
Atlas smirked, towering him and caressing his dark hair, “Aren't ye a pretty thing?” he said just before giving him a wet kiss. He positioned himself between Jack's legs who had made him some space and then he grinded down on him. Jack moaned, muffled by Atlas' hot mouth.  
Atlas could not wait any longer – he craved that young man in so many ways – so he withdrew from the kiss, leaning back to sit on his heels. Jack was such an erotic view: hands on his heads, fierce muscles trembling under the skin, so needy and ready to be taken…  
   
“Strip.”  
   
Jack's eyes widened at that order but he did not show any embarrassment nor hesitation as he removed his boxers, remaining completely bare under Atlas' attentive gaze. He could not help himself to be more than pleased into seeing how well endowed Jack was.  
   
Not only was he a clever bloke, he had a perfect body.  
   
Atlas had to grip himself at the base to resist the urge to come – what had he become some unexperienced teenager? – but despite that everything was going better than he had imagined.  
   
He took off his underwear so that he was naked too: he went for the first drawer of the bedside table, taking out all the things he needed, condom and lube  
   
“You always have to be prepared,” he commented as he positioned himself back where he was between Jack's legs. Jack limited to shake his head off, smirk on his face.  
   
Atlas would have made it go away soon.  
   
He took the lube, opening it to take some liquid. He coated his fingers and went right for Jack's entrance. The young man flinched a little, closing his eyes shut.  
   
“I'll take my time,” Atlas said to reassuring him, “I'll make ye all wet and ready for me,” those filthy words were like electricity for Jack as he shivered for anticipation, hard cock twitching a little.  
   
“Yes!” Jack exclaimed with needy voice, “yes, please...”  
   
“All in good time,” Atlas replied, pushing one digit inside, twisting his wrist and pushing a little more. He would have been a liar if he had said he was not having fun.  
   
_So. Much. Fun._  
   
He started to finger him, with one and then with two fingers when Jack opened his legs even more. "I'm not gonna break, Atlas," he said looking at him and Atlas took it like a challenge.  
   
Without any further word, Atlas scissored his fingers inside, stretching him for what was to come: in, out, in and out.  
   
“Oh, look at you, you like it, don't ye?” he said, taking Jack's cock into his other hand and pumping it a couple of times, before gripping the base.  
Jack whined. “Ah-! Atlas!”  Frustrated, the young man shook his head violently, body trembling. “I was so close!”  
   
Atlas chuckled, “I knew it!” he said and left him to wipe out his fingers on the bedsheets. He grabbed the condom he had prepared before, took it out and rolled it on his cock. Then, he touched himself to get ready: Jack was looking at him as he was hungry for it, shifting on the bed as to find a momentarily relief.  
   
“Ready?” Atlas asked him, bringing his cock at Jack's wet entrance. Jack nodded, licking his lips.  
   
“Yes, yes, I am.”  
   
Atlas pushed forward, gritting his teeth – Jack was tight even after he had prepared him – trying to not hurt him. It was a long but extenuating work but Jack did not emit a single sound of discomfort: he was breathing hard, trying to stay calm.  
   
When Atlas was fully inside him, Jack groaned but managed to speak again, “go on, move, please.”  
   
Atlas was more than happy to oblige: the boy had been such a good choice, so responsive and delicate and yet so fierce.  
“I would have never thought you were such a good bottom, boyo,” Atlas commented, gritting his teeth as Jack tightened around him, his muscles clenching involuntarily, “oh, you’re so good, fuck-”  
   
Jack reached for Atlas' shoulders, face contorted in pleasure as the man had started another kind of peace, steadier, pushing and hitting that sweet spot inside him repeatedly.  
  
 “Oh! Yes!” Jack moaned, pleasure growing into his groin, “yes, please, keep doing it!” He arched his back and scratched Atlas' shoulders – but Atlas could not care less in that very moment: actually, he had an idea.  
   
_He withdrew._  
   
Jack whined in protest.  
   
 “Sssh, boyo, turn around,” he soon ordered him, playfully slapping his tight as to encourage him.  
   
Jack looked at him with pure need but he turned on his hands and knees anyway, shaking a little. “Come on!” He managed to say, reaching for the headboard with both hands to hold himself up.  
Atlas watched him in silence for a brief moment as now he could fully appreciate Jack from that arousing perspective. He grabbed both cheeks with his hands, spreading them to show his wet, red entrance.  
   
“You're really having fun down there!” Jack commented in frustration, “come on, no more teasing!”  
   
“So demanding, Jack,” Atlas sighed, amused by the young man's reaction. He grabbed the lube bottle to apply more solution, fingering Jack once again. “I want you slippery wet,” he murmured, “I want you _dripping_ wet all around me.”  
   
Jack moaned at those words, pushing against his fingers to get more. As soon as Atlas thought that it was enough, he took himself in one hand to spread some lube over his cock; then, he entered him again.  
   
This time was definitely easier: Jack welcomed him, curving his back so that Atlas could pound him harder. “Oh fuck- finally!” Jack groaned, still holding himself up on the headboard.  
   
Atlas put his hands on his hips to pull him toward himself, wet skin slapping against another, again and again – and Jack was moaning so perfectly, his fucking voice getting louder and louder...  
   
Atlas leaned on the young man's back, reaching for his hard cock with a hand, “come boyo, come for me,” and – _yes_ – that was his point of no return.  
   
“Ah-Atlas!” Jack spurted on Atlas' hand and sheets, clenching rhythmically around him. As the boy was spent, Atlas began to pound him mercilessly again, reaching for his own orgasm – the heat was incredible, the friction nearly unbearable – his muscles were aching for the effort but he kept on fucking him.  
   
_Yes, my sweet boy, yes._  
  
“Mmm, boyo,” Atlas grunted, finally coming too. His mind went blank for a blissful moment – liquid euphoria flowing through his veins – he had not felt like that for too long.  
When he could managed, he slid out of Jack making him groan at the sudden emptiness. Atlas could not help himself from wondering what it would have been like to see his own come on Jack’s white thighs, dripping out of him… Maybe next time.  
As Jack collapsed on the bed, Atlas took off the condom, slowly getting up to throw it into the waste bin. He went into the bathroom to grab a wet towel and went back to Jack so that he could clean him from all the sweat and lube.  
   
“Thank you,” Jack slurred, looking at him with hooded eyes: he did not seem to be ready to move again from there. Atlas passed the towel on Jack’s face, on his body and then down between his legs.  
   
“Water?”  
   
“Mmm, yes.” It was no surprise Jack was parched.  
   
Atlas wasted no time in taking glasses, bringing a bottle instead. “Here.”  
   
The intimacy between them was so natural that it seemed like they had been lovers for years.  
   
_I feel like I_ _’_ _ve already met you somewhere before_ , Atlas wanted to say but he did not. No need to frighten him, not after the night they had. Plus, he needed to rest. “I should go,” Jack murmured, “I-”  
   
“Sssh, sleep now, boyo. You deserved it.”  
   
Jack smiled kindly and closed his eyes: soon his breath was slow and steady. After all, the boy was travelling during those days and who knew where he had been sleeping. With no doubts that was the first time he was lying on a soft bed.  
   
Atlas lied down next to him, feeling strangely reassured by Jack’s presence. “I should keep you here,” Atlas murmured, caressing the young man’s head. He closed his eyes to get some sleep and some part of him hoped sunrise never came.


End file.
